Two (The Godslayer Cycle Book 2) (6 page)

Avery looked up, startled.  “
Three
?”

Martin grinned.  “It is as you said it would be.  You do not yet know your birthright.  You do not know of the Nine.”

“Nine?  Three?  What is this with numbers?”  Avery held up his hand in realization.  “Wait, the Godslayer had another--”

Martin spat upon the ground.  “That is not one of the Nine.  It is an abomination, and the Nine seek its destruction.  But I am forbidden to say more of that.”

A sudden touch upon Av
ery's arm startled him, but it took him only a moment to recognize that Viola had come to his side in support.  A quick glance told him that Hamil was likewise still standing to his left, though skulking seemed a more apt term for the scribe's presence.  What was it between he and the stranger?

Martin sighed.  “In brief, as best we have been able to determine, your forebearers, the Old Gods, created nine swords – each a power in its own right – and hid them away.  They each slept, until one sword after another sensed the presence of its brothers and awoke, as well.  You were blessed with finding the first of these swords,
One
, which the Godslayer stripped you of, leaving you in this weakened state.

“
The sword I bear is
Three
, the third to awaken and call for men to find.  And it is the sword that above all others must
not
fall into the Godslayer's control.  For without it, I would be unable to travel here to give you these tidings in the first place.”

“
You continue to speak in riddles,” said Avery.

Martin gave a small laugh.  “To you now it is an unanswered riddle, but to me it is the known past.  For this sword has brought me from a time that has not yet come to this time and place to give you warnings of things to come.  You are, after all, destined to unite the Nine.”

Avery started to speak, but the stranger dropped the blade from one hand to raise his palm in caution.  “Please, my Lord Avery.  You yourself set this task upon me and you cautioned me to speak only certain things, important things.  And I fear I can already feel the slip of time upon me, so I must speak quickly.

“
Where I come from, there are six swords awoken, and three yet to be found.  I am to tell you to travel to the site of the next sword, to the coastal town of Levitz, so that the first step in your healing may begin.  You must come to odds with the Godslayer again, but only to retrieve one of the swords, for without it, you will be unable to challenge him for
Three
.”

Viola gasped.  It took Avery a moment to notice what had startled her as the trees behind the man were visible – as Martin himself began to fade.  Martin sensed it, as well, as he glanced at the hand holding
Three
, gripping the hilt tighter.  “Damn, but if I had more time, the things I could tell you...”

Just as Martin's form became more air than form, the man's eyes flew open.  “The demi-Gods!  I was going to warn you about--”

And then the man known as Martin was gone, and not even the air seemed to remember he had been there.  At least, not at first.

As Avery stared at the place where the stranger had stood in disbelief, the air around him seemed to gain an electrical edge to it.  The would-be-God looked around him to see leaves and dust swirling around his feet.  He could hear the trees nearby beginning to rustle and sway.  As he opened his mouth to comment on the sudden breeze, grit found its way inside, forcing him to cough.

“There's a storm coming, My Lord,” said Hamil.  “It would appear that Mastron is displeased by whatever foul presence has just visited us.  Would be a good reason to not heed his words.”

Avery blinked, trying to recall who Mastron was.

“The Stormlord?” Viola scoffed.  “You truly believe Mastron – who is supposed to be minding all the world's weather – cares about a man removed from time?  Doesn't exactly seem to be his realm of influence.”

Hamil shrugged.  “Who are we to know the whims of the Gods?”

“It doesn't matter though,” inserted Viola.  “Avery is not of the New Order.  He is the last of the Old Gods, and he does not have to care what upsets any other God.” 

“
Yes,” agreed Avery.  “I need not worry about Mastron or any other God.”  He only wished he believed that himself.  “Should my sires return from the land of the dead, then I shall have reason to be concerned.  Otherwise, if any other God takes exception to what I do, then it is all the more reason to do just that.”

Avery paused a moment as he pressed his arm against his maimed wrist cupped under his arm, attempting to make it look like he simply had his arms crossed.  Had he kept it hidden while Martin had been here?  He could not recall.

“If this is indeed the Stormlord objecting, then it is good enough reason for me to go exactly where the stranger directed us.”  Avery stood as tall as he could, hoping he looked commanding in doing so.  “We shall travel to Levitz, and there seek to obtain the sword that we shall find there.  I must have
One
returned to me, and if this is the means by which it can be done, none of the New Gods will dare to stand in my way.”

By the time Malik appeared in the pavilion, all of his eight brethren were already in attendance.  This had been the God's hope, for he had not wanted to have others arrive after he had already spoken.  What he had to say was monumental and he had no intention of seeing it diminished by having to repeat it.

It was of little surprise that the others were already engaged in bickering, either.  The Pantheon could not assemble in one place for very long without some discord ensuing, whether it be minor foibles one God or Goddess held against another, or a full-fledged debate.  Of course, they were forbidden by covenant to ever be more than heated arguments, even at their worst, but it did not make the process any smoother for this limitation.  Being the God and Goddess of War, Malik held the unique belief amongst the Pantheon that things would proceed much smoother if they could fight out their differences at least once a generation.

Charith was first to take note of his arrival.  He had imagined that appearing in masculine form, draped in the most regal of clothing, would have drawn all eyes to him the moment he came into being.  That only Charith took note was – to say the least – more than a little disappointing.  After all, Charith was his cohort in the plot to create the nine swords, and it was certainly those very swords that were the center of debate.  Therefore, it was really a prerequisite that Charith would watch for him, when to Malik's mind, it should have been all of them.

At the time the swords were cast, Charith and Malik had been lovers, as was the way of the Old Gods – moving amongst each other for periods of intimacy before moving onto another.  In fact, the two had not shared intimacy now in more than two centuries – something of a record, really.  Being only nine in number, the Pantheon would typically reacquaint themselves with former lovers at least once in a century.  Yet Charith had rebuffed him now for two.  If he was not mistaken, Charith was presently sharing the affections of Naris, Maiden and Champion of the Heart.

Malik shrugged.  He had been the odd-God out now for several decades, though his recent covert meetings with Dariel seemed to be progressing towards something.  Already once they had shared time together, shortly after Dariel had discovered Malik's and Charith's deception in concealing the existence of a tenth sword, one from which the other nine were molded.  Apparently, the idea of keeping such an intimate secret inspired much more than intrigue in the Baron and Baroness of the Dark – it also inspired passion.  Dariel had wasted barely a day before assuming female form and seducing her new conspirator.

Three were now entangled in the secret plot to use the tenth sword.  Of course, neither Charith nor Dariel knew exactly what Malik's plot was.  Charith was unaware that the tenth sword was in play in the mortal realm altogether, and Dariel only knew it had been given to Nathaniel Goodsmith as a means to aid him in overcoming the other nine.  None but Malik himself realized that the tenth sword would become greater than all the others, and that it was with that sword in hand that he would eventually rule over the rest of the Pantheon entirely.

Charith did not do more than glance in his direction before returning to her own portion of the ongoing conversation.  Worse, none of the other Gods or Goddesses had even deigned to notice that she had looked in his direction in the first place. 

How was one supposed to assert control over this group if they would not even follow their cues?  How did Airek do it so flawlessly?

Malik could not help glance at the masculine form of the Master and Mistress of Benevolence as he spoke to both Lendus and Elgoth.  Though the God and Goddess of Charity and Greed faced Malik, he chose not to acknowledge his presence.  It was almost enough to make one indignant.

“Do not let them see you sweat,” said a feminine voice at his side as delicate fingers came to rest upon Malik's arm.  “The mortals say that, and I believe it is a worthy sentiment.”

Malik turned to look at his new companion.  Much shorter in her feminine form, Dariel's deep set eyes still gave the impression that she was a master of secrets and subterfuge.  “Why are they acting like I am not here?  What have I missed?”

Dariel's giggle was akin to the sound of small bells chiming.  “They do not want you to know they notice you, but each has, make no mistake.  None want to give you the recognition you deserve right now, because it would give you control and influence you have never held in our number before.”

Malik smirked.  “So this is Airek's doing?”

“Hardly.  This is
all
of their doing.  You have always been the one to breed dissension, and now you may be the one that brings us all together.  But none wish to be the first to acknowledge that fact.  The first who gives you recognition will lose ground with all the rest, be seen as weaker.  And no God wishes to appear weak.  Ever.”

Malik raised an eyebrow in curiosity.  “Weaker to me, perhaps, but to the others?”

“Oh, you really do not know how to play at politics, do you?”  Dariel caressed Malik's bicep, then released her hold.  “After millennia, all you mastered was the ability to barrel through.  Now you play at subtlety, and you have no idea what you are doing.  Good thing you have me at your side.”  At this, Dariel winked, then turned to walk away.

Stand by me, but walk away like the rest?  Some ally.

Pulling himself up to full height, Malik walked forcefully into the center of the pavilion.  “Brethren, hear me!  Stop your gossiping and hear what I have to say!”

As one, the gathered Gods and Goddesses turned their attention to the master of conflict in their midst.  Yes, he could see it in their eyes – Dariel had been right.  They each showed a little bit of fear in their eyes that had never been there before.  Malik had at last mastered respect, even if it had taken millennia to accomplish.  If only this first move had bred such a reaction, he had to wonder what abject terror would look like on their faces once they realized the full scope of his plans.

“You have sensed it, I know.  You know what has happened.”

None spoke.  All continued to stare wordlessly in Malik's direction.  Even Airek – so accustomed to having the ear of the assembly – was at a loss for words in this instance.  Malik could see the extra emotion lurking behind his brother's eyes, as well – hate.  Oh yes, Airek was beginning to hate the idea that Malik's idea was working, or at the very least, that he had gained any kind of rise in influence.  Airek may not have been the first God, but he had always been the one who could guide the others.  And for once, the master manipulator did not know how to shift this to his own advantage.

Malik tilted his head forward with a wicked gleam in his eye.  “What?  Can none of you say it?  Can none of you confirm what I know to be true?”

None could.  Or at least, none would.  The assemblage remained absolutely silent.

“Very well.  I will say it.”  Malik paused for a moment.  “A God has died.”

Though the words were expected, still the utterance of the words seemed a slap in the face of the group.  It was as though refusing to say it had somehow lessened its import.  But now that Malik had said the words, the shock was inescapable.  Naris even went so far as to cover her mouth in dismay.

“What?  Why do you cower so?  It was not one of our own.  We are all here, are we not?”

“
Have some sensitivity, Malik,” interjected Airek.  “Regardless of who has passed, it is nevertheless a grave day.  If one God can die,
any
can die.  And that means we are all very much at risk.”

“
You fear what you cannot control, Airek,” responded Malik.  “And the irony here is that you had the chance three centuries' past, when we stood here once before, Charith and I, accused of breaching covenant.  The plan had been to set the swords to use, each to our own faithful.  But you sought to undo what we had sought to accomplish, and now the consequence has been your loss of control.  And now you would fear this because it was not your doing.  Grow a spine, already!”

Airek cast a glance in Dariel's direction.  “You keep strange bedfellows these days, Lord of Strife – bedding the very Goddess who was the one who truly threw your plans to the wind.”

Malik twinged slightly at the reference.  He had not been aware that his and Dariel's relationship had been brought to light yet.  He covered for it with a shrug, however.  “There are but nine of us, Airek.  Would you have me hold a grudge against all who have wronged me?  I would become the Lord of celibacy if I were to do that.”

Lendus guffawed at that.  Ever the one to relish in festivity, the Guardian of the Grail was usually the one who would laugh first at any jest. 

Malik suddenly swept his arms wide.  “Lendus has the right of it.  This is a time for joy and mirth, not for bickering and spite.  One of the forty eight has fallen, and you have dear Charith and I to hold in gratitude for it.”

Charith scowled.  “Would that I could escape my part in this,” she muttered.  Louder, she said, “Did you know that when a God passes, they do not pass through my domain?”

Malik blinked.  “What of it?”

Charith glared at her former cohort.  “It is unnatural!  All things living just pass through death.  Yet though we all know a God has passed, I felt nothing cross the veil.  Nothing!”

“Because it was not one of ours, Sister.  Rest assured, I am quite sure Elevan sensed--”

“
Would you have me define the arts of war for you, oh, Patron of Insanity?”  Malik scowled at the insult, but Charith continued without interruption.  “Just because I do not have dominion over a soul's death does not mean I am unaware of its passing.  I know when any mortal or immortal soul passes from the land of the living.  If it is my soul to collect, I am drawn to it.  If not, another is.  Yet I always know the soul is there.  When this Godling passed, though, I sensed nothing cross the veil.  All I sensed was what all of you did – the passing energy, the absence in the web of divinity.  I do not know where that soul went.  I, God and Goddess of Death and Life, now know that when Gods pass...  We are gone.  Just...  gone.”

All were silent for several moments, none being able to respond to Charith's words.  “It is not natural...”  she repeated after a moment, before lapsing again into silence.

Malik took a deep breath and pushed forward.  “Does anyone know who the unfortunate soul, er...  My apologies, Charith.  Has anyone learned which of the Godlings passed?”

All were silent for several moments, until at last Dariel stepped forward to stand in front of Malik.  “I believe I know.”

When the God and Goddess of Truth and Deception would say no more, Malik prompted, “Well?  Don't just stand there – tell us.”

“
And say how it is you would know when none of the rest of us do,” added Airek, who had shifted to his feminine form now.

“
Oh, I know because I am just ever so much richer now than I was before,” responded Dariel.  “You see, though my faithful have not grown, the resistance to faith from the sphere of truth has lessened considerably.  When the Goddess died, whatever resistance she may have created to my faithful went with her.  And because it is only in this one area where there has been a lessening, I know who must have died.”

Dariel looked around the room, clearly taking pleasure from the exasperation she was feeding.  “Imery, Goddess of Truth has died.  The sphere of truth has been released.  And so I know it must have been Imery.”

Malik felt his chest catch, as though he genuinely suffered a malady of shock.  It made sense that Imery would be one involved, but to have her be the first to fall?  He had needed her to keep Nathaniel on the path he had chosen for their avatar, and if she were dead already...

“
What an odd irony,” Elgoth spoke up.  “The very Goddess who slew our avatar's wife was the first to fall to his blade.  It seems that there may indeed be justice in the cosmic balance of things, after all.”

“
Be careful, my dear Steward,” mocked Dariel.  “You seem almost ready to convert to principles of honor there.”

Lendus let loose with another loud bellow of laughter, and even a few others could be heard snickering at the last. 

“Do we know for certain that young Nathaniel was the godslayer?”  interrupted Karmel.  Even though the God and Goddess of Magic and Chance was in his masculine form, still he had a certain femininity that left little doubt to his preferred form.

“
It will have to be ascertained, of course,” said Malik, trying to regain some semblance of control.  “But I do not believe there can be any doubt.  Nathaniel was sure to have the first of the swords by now.  But I will go to see--”

“
No, I think it best if you not be the one to make such an inquiry, Malik,” interrupted Dariel.

Malik failed to disguise the shock at Dariel's obstruction.  “And why not?”

Dariel smiled beauteously.  “Because it is more proper for the God and Goddess of Truth to inquire into the passing of one of her own sphere, don't you think?  And besides, it will present the perfect opportunity to determine how close Imery's little puppet is to our avatar.”

Malik resisted the urge to scowl at the manipulative move of his compatriot, but had to concede when put in such a manner.  This would qualify as her domain more than his.  She had a claim to propriety.  At least he could take some solace in the idea that at least it had been Dariel and not one of the others who would be going to inquire of Nathaniel.  After all, if one of the others learned of the tenth sword at this juncture, it would cause no end of grief.